Vlad Wolff, an Inquisitor Lord's Tale
by Dark Paladin Shadower Trakand
Summary: Inquisitor Lord Vlad Wolff is hunting a mysterious Greater Daemon. Outnumbered, can his Wolff Pack hope to win?


Inquisitor Lord Vlad Wolff, of the Ordo Malleus, watched as his squad of Grey Knights, four Space Marines led by their Justicar, Hengrist, polished their weapons. The Grey Knights were the elite of all the Space Marine Chapters, indeed, it was said that their gene-seed came directly from the Emperor himself. They were the Adeptus Astartes of the Ordo Malleus, the Space Marines charged with hunting Daemons alongside the Inquisition.  
This squad had been assigned specifically to Wolff decades ago, when he had become an Inquisitor Lord. Wolff was proud of the progress these relatively young Space Marines had made in his service. They had been a group of green warriors when they had been assigned to Wolff's permanent force. Now, they were amongst the deadliest forces that existed amongst the Grey Knights.  
Wolff shook his head, and picked up his force weapon, a long sword covered with purity seals and writing. The blade was thin and made of a substance that looked like obsidian. Wolff stood up, his black and red cloak fluttering around him. The red and black colors were those of his hunting group, known as the Wolff's Pack. His artificer armor moved smoothly with him, so light in its design that he did not even feel it. The golden armor shone bright in the setting sun.  
"Milord?" a soft voice asked.  
Wolff turned his attention to the twin Astropaths who accompanied him. The twins were identical, except for their choices of colors. The one on the right, named Kohler, wore black robes trimmed in red. The one on the left, named Learchus wore red robes trimmed in black. It was Learchus who spoke first.  
"Milord, we have located the source of the daemonic influence on this planet. We determine it to be a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch," Learchus said calmly. His brother picked up where Learchus had left off.  
"However, Lord Wolff, this Daemon is more powerful than any we have felt. We are sure that it will be devastating to behold," Kohler said, his voice also calm.  
"No. Really? I thought that a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch would be a beautiful sight to see," Wolff replied sarcastically. He turned to observe the setting sun. The two Astropaths exchanged glances. When he was this close to a Daemon, Wolff had a notorious reputation for sarcasm.  
Wolff sighed, and turned back to his Astropaths. His Servo Skull, its emerald eye glinting, turned simultaneously with Wolff, observing the twins closely. The skull was covered in black metal, and carried a rolled up scroll with slender mandibles that branched out from where the head would connect with the spine. The scroll was Wolff's copy of the Grimoire of True Names, its intricate writing listing the true name of every Daemon the Ordo Malleus had ever hunted. A new name would be added soon.  
"So. A Lord of Change. I'm surprised you two aren't freaking out because of its nearness," Wolff said. He wasn't really surprised, but he felt these two should hear praise. They had been with him since he became an Inquisitor, and had acquired an attitude that most Inquisitor's would kill for in a pair of Astropaths. Most Astropaths would have collapsed to their knees weeping, or at the very least complained in fear, when facing a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch. After all, the Greater Daemons of Tzeentch had the most ability to affect the minds of a pysker, causing psykers to become corrupted. However, Kohler and Learchus stood there calmly ready to face the Daemon.  
"Milord?"  
Wolff turned to see the Stormtrooper Sergeant Arlo standing at attention behind him.  
"Yes, Sergeant?"  
"We have scouted the enemy positions. There are over a thousand heretics in the first set of fortifications alone. I spoke with one of your Calculus Logi, and he agreed with my assessment. Milord, even bringing down all of the Stormtroopers loyal to you, we couldn't assault that fortress with any hope of survival," Arlo said. His red and black uniform blended in with the shadows, although not quite perfectly.  
"Well, what do you propose I do about it?" Wolff asked, frustrated. "Do you expect me to retreat? Of course not. We have to try. We will attack that fortress. We will try to reach the Daemon hidden within its walls."  
Arlo bowed. "Very well then, milord. If you don't mind, I'd like to make a toast. I brought some of my personal store of wine, for this occasion."  
  
Wolff shook his head at Arlo's blatant disregard for regulations. "Fine."  
Arlo pulled out a bottle, and a set of glasses. He poured the wine into the glasses, and offered a glass each to Wolff and the Astropaths. Once everyone had their drink, Arlo raised his glass. "Well, a toast. Here's to trying. Rhymes with dying."  
Wolff glared at the Sergeant, but couldn't fault the man's logic. He was right, of course. There was little hope. But, as Wolff's teacher had often said, "Hope is the carrot they hang in front of a donkey to get it to move forward." Wolff drank his wine, and then clenched his fist. The glass shattered. 


End file.
